Hooked
by magical realism
Summary: Katie cycles through confusion, obsession, love, and hate through her years at Degrassi. And maybe all those things have to do with Bianca DeSousa. Not that she'd ever admit it. Angst/Drabble kianca one-shot


You're fourteen.

You're golden hair is set delicately in two pigtails and you smile stiffly through your makeup, slathered on by Marisol. Marisol, who eagerly tugs your hand, dragging you through the crowd of upperclassmen. You would've cowered, had it not been for her.

And in-between an anxiety attack and feeling too big and too small at the same time, you spot her.

Her skin is tan, the natural, outdoorsy kind of tan, and her black hair falls in a perfect sheen. It's straightened and you could practically smell the heat damage.

But, while Marisol stomps through the crowd, this girl has a quite confidence. She's lost in a sea of faces but imbedded deep in your mind, like a hand print in wet sand.

And that year, you learn how to feel normal-sized.

You make friends, mostly by Marisol, and you talk to boys without blushing or tripping on your words. You run countless laps and do endless drills in soccer, killing it in every scrimmage and being dubbed "The Soc-whore girl" by a select few. And you're collapsed on your bed, wailing into your bright green phone about it to Mar.

Between sixth and seventh period, she stops to talk to a thick red-headed boy. You always take a sip of water near-by, trying to ignore the full, silver canteen in your back-pack.

Her voice is gravely and her hair is curly. She's a C student, she hates her English teacher, she likes the food network and cheese curls and Elle magazine.

You memorize every fact and file it away until you'll need it. It's not until December that you learn her name. Bianca. It rolls off your tongue. Kind of. You've never had a reason to say it. She wears long, hot pink fake nails on Thursday, so you go to CVS and purchase them. They look ridiculous and you get the stick-on glue on your bedspread. Maya laughs and begrudgingly helps you wash the sheets.

Freshman year drags to an end and summer lurches into view. There's little actual Bianca, but she slowly moves to the forefront of your mind as you sit on your porch swing and try to read Harry Potter. You feel angry, parents hovering, best friend yapping mindlessly.

You take up different forms of karate, anything to get you out of the house. You like getting the different colored belts, it makes you feel accomplished. Sometimes, you wonder if tough girl Bianca would be impressed.

The last class before school starts, a boy from class kisses you. It's awkward and the gym smells. But Marisol squeals for almost a full minute and insists on details. You push hair off your face and wonder when school starts.

Bianca, the Bianca, is in your history class this year. She sits diagonally in front of you. She has a leopard print back pack this year. Bianca never raised her hand, not once, but sometimes she would turn around and glance at you. You hear snippets of conversation.

She's dating Tucker.

Then Chris.

Then Anson.

And somehow, your daydreams of your first date turn into daydreams of her dates. And it ends with you pondering what way Bianca likes it instead of deforestation. And just how many ways there actually are.

Marisol is busy with Power Squad stuff and your parents are never busy enough to ignore you. You want it all to go away. But you still need to be a soccer stud and get your own section in the school news paper and make the honor roll. So you vomit. Just so you can feel like there's less bad stuff inside you and if it all went away then you would go away.

And you refuse to call it bulimia.

You do it in the bathroom at school a few times, and the secret gives you some kind of cheap thrill, the same thrill you used to get when you lost a pound. Now you just wish you had lost more. You chew wads of gum to mask the scent of bile. Bianca comments on the whole room smelling like bubble gum on a Tuesday, and you don't purge for the rest of the day. You binge the next, but that's not the point.

Then comes the awful day when Maya barges in and catches you with a frail finger down your dry throat, anger in her eyes. But also fear. And your reputation crumbles around you and you vow to stop, right now, forever. Because fear has always been your motivator. So you run extra laps and do extra crunches and become the first sophomore editor of the Degrassi Daily ever. And you go to school every day. And, just in time, you start noticing Bianca again. Because sometimes you think that she notices you too.

But then it's summer and you have other stuff to do. Like, try those fake nails again. And they look terrible but give you some semblance of happiness. Maya helps you wash the sheets without having to be coerced.

Summer flies by even faster than the last and you wish that you had a friend with you, who cared and listened. You convince yourself that Bianca would listen. But you try to ignore these thoughts as you run laps and sit silently with the therapist you're now required to see.

Junior year brings you some... changes to say the least. Marisol became a serial dater over the summer ,she stopped holding your hand in the halls. She tells you she's in love with Riley Stavros. You roll your eyes, get back to polishing your cleats and tell her that he's gay. She bites "Takes one to know one." And storms off.

You try to convince yourself that a picture of Bianca didn't just pop into your head. But you can't, and you realize you might be in love with her. Maybe since the first day of freshman year. So you listen to The Killers and write and do homework and go to practice and you don't purge.

You listen to Marisol tell you she's in love with KC Guthrie and then Drew Torres and then not either of them. You perk a bit at KC because it seems like he and Bianca are kind of close. Then you're daydreaming about the four of you hanging out and Marisol asks you why you're thinking instead of eating and you want to cry and hit her and run away because you're not bulimic and you're not a lesbian and she's annoying.

Bianca took Drew to the Boiler room.

Bianca took Drew to the Boiler room.

Bianca took Drew to the boiler room.

It's all anyone wants to talk about and it's making you sick. Marisol laughs about dodged bullets and calls Bianca a ho. And even though you haven't seen her all year, not even during passing periods, and even though you're straight, you snap and inform Marisol that she's the sluttiest girl you know and she should shut her big fat mouth.

You don't talk for almost three weeks. And you're still angry for two of them.

You meet Adam Torres, even though you're busy because winter break is only the beginning and it's junior year and time to freak out. You walk and talk and it's nice to talk and be listened too. You ask what his love life is like.

"I had a crush on Bianca. But it will never happen. Incompatible orientation, ya know?" And you know so well that every bone in your body suddenly aches and the back of your eyes get tight like you're about to cry. And you almost confess. But you don't because you're not looking for a friend or boyfriend or girlfriend (definitely not a girlfriend), you're still looking for a way out.

You let another boy kiss you at some party because Marisol gets bitchy when she's drunk and Bianca's making out with Adam's brother like crazy and you can actually hear them from four feet away and it's disgusting. Even though it's been months, you're still paranoid about vomit taste.

Then, the weirdness gets started. Drew Torres likes you. And you tell yourself to like him back because he's a football player and he's cute and easy to talk too. So you let him fall for you and maybe you fall for him a little bit which makes it harder. You stop thinking about Bianca even when Maya flips to the food network or when you hear the word Boiler room.

Between kissing Drew and talking to Drew you start to hate Bianca. Really, really despise her for making you feel like that and for making Drew feel like that and for being too scary to talk too and too sexy to really hate.

One time, Drew asks you why you don't wear fake nails. You lie and say you bite them and decide that everything you previously felt for Bianca was hate.

Summer is just you and Drew being lazy with the rest of the Torres' family and it's amazing.

Except Bianca is part of the Torres family now and she still looks hot and likes horror movies and one time she lent you a bracelet.

So, you're confused. You don't wear the bracelet and you can hear Freshman!You scream when you snap the wire and the pearls clatter to the ground.

Soccer is everything. It's all that matters now.

Maybe you've always been a bit obsessive, but when you swallow the Oxy and it cuts your throat you remind yourself of soccer and how you're the Katie Matlin and a busted knee isn't going to keep you from something that's everything.

Drew, who never really listens anymore, wants you to hang out with Bianca. And even though you spent the summer hating her and definitely not having anxiety attacks when your arms touched or when she smiled in your general direction, you agree.

But your heart breaks because when the two of them talk you can see the look on his face.

The look of loving Bianca DeSousa.

And maybe you being loved by anyone is too much to ask.

She wants a friend and you want Oxy. It's a win-win.

Because you hung out all summer so she has to know by now, right? So she threw it in your face. And at the crowded club she keeps touching you and acting all nice and you just really hate her for wanting a friend.

Can't she want more?

_I never wanted to be your friend._ You slur, high on Oxy, as your saccharine kitchen swirls around you. And you crumple because you just admitted it, everything you've been feeling since freshman year.

And she sprays you with water and storms out before you can finish.

_I wanted to be so much more. _


End file.
